Washed Up
by Mercy83
Summary: When the Akatsuki hire an unassuming maid to wash their socks, she seems to have more about her than meets the eye...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Outside the smudgy window, the wind gently swayed the branches of the cherry tree in the yard. I listened to the faint plunk-plunk of ripe cherries dropping neglected to the path below. The cold rain that had fallen all morning had passed off, leaving a damp chill in the air; it made my back ache, and I got up stiffly and stretched.

Zangei, busy with his account book, glanced up as he heard me move. "Tired of sitting still? Well, I expect to see him any minute now. He's never late – unless something happens." He picked up the bottle of sake at his elbow and splashed some into a glass.

"Here, young lady, this might help you relax." He handed me the sake and watched as I sipped it. "It's important that you make a good impression, Hayashi-san. I don't know a great deal about the organization you'll be working for, but I know they don't tolerate incompetence – even for a job that's, shall we say, low-level. Not to mention that if you screw up, they'll be on my case for giving a false recommendation."

"Don't worry, Zangei-san. I won't screw up." I finished my sake and set down the glass. "Thanks for the drink."

For the sixth time, I peered out the window toward the road. Someone was coming up the walk at last. Two someones, actually – a pale, white-haired young man with a scythe across his shoulder, and a hulking ninja in a mask. Both were wrapped in long dark cloaks.

I patted my sash and twitched my kimono straight. The latch rattled, and the masked ninja stepped into the house. "Stay outside, Hidan, will you?" he called over his shoulder to his companion. "This will not take up too much time."

I bowed, and the stranger nodded stiffly in return. "I am Kakuzu. And your name?"

"Hayashi Takeko."

At a nod from Zangei, Kakuzu sat down on one of the mats and motioned me to be seated as well. His green eyes, lit by a feral glow, studied me for a few moments. "There are a few questions I wish to ask you," he said at last. " I will expect you to handle all the household chores – cooking, cleaning, laundry – for ten people. "

He looked doubtfully down at me, and I smiled. I knew that to him I must look impossibly small and delicate; he was a head taller than I was and outweighed me by at least a hundred pounds. "Oh, I'm used to hard work, Kakuzu-san."

"Zangei-san tells me you grew up in Konohagakure. Why did you leave your village? Are you a missing-nin?"

"I'm not a ninja at all. Not any more." I hesitated. How much did Kakuzu know about me? _If I lie, he probably has ways of finding out the truth. _Zangei had told me very little about Kakuzu's mysterious organization, but I knew enough about it to realize that it was dangerous to cross them. Still, I thought I might risk warping the facts a little. "I failed my chuunin exam," I admitted. "I'm washed up and looking for a way to make money. I left my village because I couldn't get a decent job there."

"Well, you need not worry. We are prepared to pay you well." He mentioned a number, and I had to restrain my gasp – it was at least five times what I would have made back home. "For that price, though," he went on, "we have certain expectations. The organization you will be working for is made up of ninja who handle highly classified missions. It is vital that our objectives, even our location, be kept absolutely secret. If you accept the position we're offering you, and we later find out that you have leaked any information about us whatsoever, to anyone –" he stared intently at me – " we will have no choice but to put you out of the way. Is that understood?"

I bowed again. "Not a word about your missions, objectives, location, or members to anyone."

"Excellent. Now, I want to make one more thing very clear. You are free to accept or turn down this job, but if you accept, you will hold this position until we choose to let you go. As I said, we cannot risk any compromise to our objectives. Think it over carefully."

I stood up. "Excuse me, please. I'll be back in a little while after I've thought it over."

Kakuzu nodded, and I stepped outside into the muddy yard. Kakuzu's partner sat crosslegged on the walk, tossing pebbles at the birds that flew down after the fallen cherries. He looked up at me with an insolent grin, but I was in no mood to talk to a stranger. I went around to the back yard, where I could be alone, and leaned against the wall of the house.

Was this a job I wanted to take?

It was dangerous, certainly. But the money!

Once I had dreamed of becoming a jonin and helping to protect the village. My family, proud ninja famed for their unique bloodline trait, had trained me carefully. My disastrous chuunin exam had ended all that.

I was a failure, I knew it. I would never fight again. I had left Konoha because I couldn't face the pitying glances from those who had known me when I was one of the most promising young ninja in the village. But I still had to make a living, and I wanted a new dream to replace the one that had collapsed so suddenly.

I had always had a turn for ink painting and calligraphy. If I could only manage to put away enough money, I could support myself for a year or two while I honed my craft. Maybe I could even save enough to go to art school. Kakuzu's offer might make that dream happen.

I went back inside and found Kakuzu still sitting on the mat. He glanced up as I entered. "I'll take the job," I told him.

"I'm pleased to hear it." He stood up and moved toward the door.

I strapped on the backpack that held my belongings, said good-bye to Zangei, and followed Kakuzu out.

His partner, Hidan, joined us as we came through the door. The two ninja walked together along the road, while I followed. None of us spoke, although Hidan whistled noiselessly through his teeth. The thin blades of his scythe gleamed.

It was a long trudge to my new employer's base, and my back was aching sharply by the time we arrived. Kakuzu pushed open a heavy door and let us all inside. I found myself in a damp, windowless building that smelled of mildew. Although the sparse furniture was arranged neatly, dust lay in rolls in the corners. It was plain that nobody who lived here knew how to keep a house clean.

Kakuzu led me down one of the hallways, lit by a bare bulb in the ceiling, and opened the door to the kitchen. "The laundry room is just off the kitchen, and your bedroom is the next door down from this one. You will be paid weekly, and when you need money for groceries, come and find me. Oh, by the way, we like breakfast served promptly at six AM." He gave me a stiff little bow. "Welcome to the Akatsuki."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The kitchen clock showed four-thirty AM, and the kitchen floor was cold. My fingers were so numb that I could hardly feel the rice I was washing in a pot of chilly water. _When I get this rice going, _I promised myself, _I'll have a cup of hot tea to warm up. _ The big teakettle was steaming on the stove.

I turned the heat on under the rice, stirred the miso soup simmering in its deep pot, and poured some boiling water from the kettle into my teacup. I leaned against the kitchen counter, waiting for the tea to steep. No one else seemed to be up – the house around me was quiet – and I warmed my hands on the hot cup and enjoyed the silence.

Some people said you could read your fortune in the tea leaves left at the bottom of the cup. _It would be nice if that were true, _I thought. There was something strange about this big, shabby place, silent as a well-ordered military barrack. Adding to the odd feeling it gave me was the fact that I had not yet seen any of the other people who shared the house with me – though Kakuzu had said there were ten of them. What would the end of this adventure bring me?

When I glanced up from my teacup, my throat dried up and I nearly choked. Someone was standing in front of me, fixing me with an intense and bitter gaze. It was a young woman, dressed like a fighter, with long blond hair drawn back tightly from her face. How had she gotten here? I hadn't heard the kitchen door open – indeed, it was still firmly shut.

She seemed waiting for me to speak.

"Who are you?" I whispered.

"There's a joss stick in the top cupboard above the sink." Her voice was clear, but so low it was hard to hear. "Light it for me, would you, and then we'll talk."

_What a strange thing to ask for. _ As I stared at my visitor, she seemed to waver and fade before my eyes. When I had first seen her, she was as solid as any other human being I'd seen. Now she appeared a little more insubstantial, like a reflection in water. As she took a few steps closer to me, I noticed that she cast no shadow.

I got down the joss stick and lighted it at the stove. She hovered over it, eagerly inhaling the smoke, and as she breathed in the incense she seemed to grow a bit less transparent. At last, when the joss stick had burned down about a quarter of an inch, she straightened up again and looked at me.

"I'm Nii Yugito." She paused, evidently expecting me to recognize her name. I must have looked puzzled, because she raised an eyebrow and went on. "Have you ever heard of jinchuuriki?"

"Yes. There was one in my village." _Uzamaki Naruto—probably the loudest, most annoying kid in the entire village. I guess I thought they were all more or less alike – but she's nothing like him._

"That's what I am. What I was."

I edged away from her. I really didn't want to get mixed up with someone who was the container for a demon. "What do you want from me?"

"You can see me."

"And?"

"No one else here can. Believe me, I've tried. If I could only make them pay, even a little bit, for what they did to me! But what can you do, what can you do when no one can see you?"

She was desolate. Anger and pain seemed to roll from her in waves. Despite my fear, I found myself drawing a little closer to her. "What did they do?" I whispered.

"They ripped my tailed beast out of me. It was agony. It was the worst thing I've ever been through. I fought as hard as I could, but—" She shuddered.

"Yugito-san, I'm sorry," I said, as gently as I could. "But what, exactly, can I do about it for you? You do realize I'm just the housekeeper?"

"You're not _just _the housekeeper. You're a chuunin."

"If you think I can go up against the ninja in this organization, you're crazy." My voice rose. "I may be a chuunin, but I can't fight these guys. Especially not if they fight two at a time!"

"You have a bloodline limit no one else has."

"How would you know?"

"I've watched you fight – back in your home village."

"Did you see what happened to me during my exams? I'll bet you weren't there for that, or you'd never be asking for something like this."

She stared back at me, her hollow eyes unmoved.

I drew a deep breath and went on. "I won - on a technicality. I grant you that. I finished off the other ninja, though we were both so low on chakra by that time that it hardly mattered any more. Before he died he hit me hard enough to shatter my lower spine. I got stuck in the hospital and they patched me back together. It took months and months before I could walk like I used to before I got hurt. If I get hit across the back any more, the damage will be bad enough that I'll never walk again."

Still she said nothing; she just continued to stare silently at me. I pinched out the joss stick and reached over to fill the teapot, turning my back on her. When I glanced back at where she had been, she was gone – seemingly melted into the air.

The kitchen suddenly felt colder, although the soup pot was giving off clouds of warm and friendly steam. Every noise I made seemed to echo. I picked up my teacup again and closed my eyes tight, wishing fervently that there was someone else there with me. Someone alive.

I heard the kitchen door open, and looked up, feeling enormous relief at the thought of seeing another human being. Anyone warm and breathing would do, but I was not prepared for the person who stepped through the door.

He was a tall, slim ninja in black pants and a fishnet shirt. His long black hair, still uncombed, hung loose halfway down his back. Sleepily he poured himself a cup of tea and sipped it slowly, leaning against the wall. He paid no attention to me.

He glanced past me at the calendar hanging on the opposite wall, and as he raised his head I caught a glimpse of his eyes. A ninja is trained not to show surprise, so I was able to keep my expression impassive. But, behind my quiet face, I felt as though I had been pulled up by the roots. He had red eyes.

Red eyes. That meant he had the Sharingan, and only one ninja clan had ever had that. There could be no doubt about it; here I was, practically face to face with Uchiha Itachi. Images of the Uchiha clan massacre flashed into my mind. I had been fourteen years old at the time, and like the rest of Konoha, I remembered.

Cold sweat broke out along the edge of my hair. _I think I'd rather be around the ghost. _ What kind of organization would have Uchiha Itachi for a member?

What had I gotten myself into?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Still nursing his hot cup of tea, Itachi looked up and leisurely studied my face. "Who were you talking to in here?" he asked me, his voice low and even.

"Nobody," I told him. I didn't think he would believe me, but if I told him the truth he certainly would not believe that. And even if he did, I couldn't see myself discussing ghosts with him. "I have a bad habit of talking to myself sometimes," I added.

I kept my voice casual, but a cold prickle ran along my spine. How much had Itachi heard?

He looked skeptical, but before he could say anything else, the door opened, and the rest of the Akatsuki tramped in to breakfast. I hurried to set the soup and pickled vegetables on the table.

There were seven ninja around the table, counting Itachi, and as they ate I found myself sizing them up. They were a tall, tough-looking bunch, and they seemed to be very businesslike; during the meal, they hardly spoke to one another. Some of them reminded me in a way of the masks the ANBU wore on missions.

One, for instance, had rough bluish skin, gill slits, and rows of sharp teeth. His eyes were hardly human. The wide sword he had brought in with him, swathed in bandages, stood propped against the wall within his reach. _Who brings a sword to the breakfast table? I wonder what's special about that one. _

I was glad when the group finished eating and filed out. Their silence and their inhuman aspect were beginning to fray my nerves. Itachi was the last one to leave. As he went out the door, he paused and sent me a piercing look over his shoulder. Beneath his fringe of black hair his red eyes gleamed.

After that first meal I couldn't help expecting trouble. But the rest of the day wore on, and the next day, and the day after that. By the time I had lived with the Akatsuki for several weeks, I had stopped anticipating anything but hard work.

The hours passed for me in a monotonous hum of laundry, dishes, cooking, and cleaning. Every morning I made the rounds of the bedrooms, straightening beds and picking up dirty clothes. Every night I stayed up past ten PM, slogging my way through piles of dirty dishes. My back hurt every day now, so badly that the only way I could cope with the pain was a dose of painkillers and a shot of sake.

The members of Akatsuki came and went at odd hours, seldom taking any notice of me. I learned to keep a pot of hot tea on the stove at all times, ready for anyone who might be coming in from a mission. They were polite to me, but not especially was fine with me – I didn't think I wanted to get close to any of them.

Kakuzu lived up to what he had promised me when I took the job. Every Friday he paid me my salary, at precisely five PM. I sewed the money into my underclothing. I was afraid to let any of the Akatsuki know about my old injuries, yet I wasn't sure how much longer I could handle the work. If a chance to leave for good did present itself, I intended to be ready.

I hadn't seen any more of Nii Yugito since that first morning. I kept a joss stick handy, just in case she decided to reappear, but on the whole I was glad to be rid of her. As the days went by and no more ghosts appeared, I breathed easier.

I was busy at the laundry room sink one afternoon, trying my best to scrub the stains out of a cloak that had obviously been worn last week during some messy fight or other. _Must be one of Hidan's. How the heck does he think I can keep getting the blood out of his clothes?_

Finally I gave up and tossed the stained cloak into the laundry pile. _If a cold wash doesn't get the blood out, there's nothing more I can do. _I gathered up the basketful of clean laundry I had just folded and started toward the bedrooms to put it away.

Halfway down the hall, just outside the bathroom door, I almost tripped over Samehada. By now, I knew the names of everyone in Akatsuki, including the weapons. The sword slid to the floor with a thump, and I rubbed my shin with a hiss of pain. Obviously Kisame had just come in from his latest mission. _Why does he insist on leaving his stupid sword lying around? I could have broken something. _

I scowled at the closed bathroom door. Behind it I could hear the shower running. Kisame did not like anyone else to handle his sword, but he wouldn't be out of the shower for at least a few minutes, and the sword was blocking my path. I lifted it carefully by the handle and propped it up against the wall again.

As I drew my hand away, the bandages wrapped around the blade slowly unfurled themselves. Not wanting Kisame to notice this, I tucked the bandages back into place. My hand brushed against Samehada's blade.

If Kisame hadn't been close enough to hear, I would have shrieked. I could feel chakra being drawn out of my body. My head spun. I jerked my hand away from the blade and sank to the floor on my hands and knees, gasping.

The hallway rocked dizzily around me, and black spots swam in front of my eyes. _I can't faint! Not here! _The shower stopped running, and I knew Kisame would be out of the bathroom in a minute. I forced my body upright and drew in a deep breath.

Guiding myself with one hand on the wall, I stumbled back to the laundry room, dragging the basket behind me. Once I was safely inside the laundry room, I shoved the door shut and sat down against it, holding it closed behind me. My hands and feet were freezing. I dropped my head between my knees and tried to relax.

But I couldn't. My chest felt as though it were being squeezed in an iron band. My mind was a clutter of thoughts, tumbling over one another so fast I could hardly make any sense out of myself. I found myself focusing on my own breathing: in, out, in, out ...

After a while I lifted my head and looked around the dark room. The familiar things around me seemed foreign and threatening, as though I had suddenly forgotten their names. That sword! The thought of going back out and finding it still propped against the wall, waiting for me, made me shiver.

I was glad none of my family was here to see how terrified I was of a mere sword. Our bloodline limit was simple and distinctive; we had the ability to draw chakra from an opponent's body and to use it to throw out a chakra shield around ourselves. The shield deflected any attack – ninjutsu, taijutsu, genjutsu, it didn't matter which. All we had to do was to hold ourselves steady until the attacker was drained and dead.

It was almost failproof. I had been honing the technique since I was little. But the thought of someone turning it against me set my blood running cold. My mind drew swift, clear pictures of Kisame standing over me, raising Samehada above my head.

_I cannot believe Nii Yugito wanted me to fight these guys. _I slumped down, my head in my hands. Suddenly I missed my family and my village more than I had ever thought I could.

_I wish I could wake up from this dream. I wish I was at home._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

When I felt a little better, I limped off to my room and locked the door behind me. I needed to rest. After a few hours of sleep, I felt refreshed enough to manage cooking dinner. The meal was fifteen minutes late, and Kakuzu and Itachi gave me disapproving looks. I regarded them with weary resentment. Tonight, I figured, they were lucky to be getting a hot meal at all.

By the time I finished washing the supper dishes, the kitchen clock said 9 pm. I sighed and rubbed my aching back. My head still felt muzzy, and I had to take out the kitchen trash before I could go to bed.

Trash bucket in hand, I trudged outside to the midden pit where all the base's garbage was dumped. The sky was clear, with a few pale stars shining. Behind the trees the last traces of the sunset stained the edges of the sky. Bats flittered and squeaked above my head.

I set down the trash pail for a minute and paused, taking in the quiet and the clean feel of the night breeze stirring my hair. The evening was so still that when the ghost appeared, I hardly felt surprised.

It was like watching someone paint a picture on thin air. First the outline of the figure's body, then the fine details of face and clothing. The young man swayed gently, his eyes closed, his fingers moving up and down the flute in his hands. I couldn't hear the tune he was playing, but he looked so serene that it was hard to believe that he had been a jinchuuriki.

"Excuse me," I began softly, and stopped. How did one address a ghost? "My name is Hayashi Takeko, and you are-?"

"Utakata. I've heard about you." He opened his eyes and smiled at me, and involuntarily I stepped back. There was a mad glitter in his eyes, an insane edge to his smile. It was raw, unbalanced fury, and it chilled me more than Nii Yugito's sullen anger.

"What do you want from me?" I asked carefully.

"Yugito said you were a chuunin."

_Not this again. _ "I'm sorry, but I told her I couldn't help you."

"Yes, you can." He drew closer. "I think you will."

His gaze never wavered. It made me feel that he was trying to take me apart into small jagged pieces, pieces that he could fit back together into a pattern of his own. I looked away and tried to change the subject. "I've been wondering, Utakata-san. Why is it that I can see you? No one else who lives here seems to be able to."

He shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe it's a natural talent, but rare – like perfect pitch or oddly-colored eyes. All that matters is that you can see us. We want you to kill."

"To kill who?"

"All of them," he said softly. "We want to see them all dead."

"Listen!" I fought down the impulse to shout. "I told you I can't do it! I'm not strong enough to take down even one of them, let alone the whole gang! I'm not going to try something as crazy as that – I don't care how many of you try to talk me into it!"

Utakata shook his head, still smiling that creepy smile. "Oh, but I think you will. You want to protect your village, right? That's why you became a chuunin, right?"

"What's that got to do with it?"

"You know where they go on missions, don't you? They hunt us. They search for jinchuuriki. Don't you want to know where they're heading next?"

I stared at him.

"Konoha, of course," he went on. "There's a jinchuuriki living there, I hear. The most powerful one of all – the Nine-Tailed Fox."

"But – but he's just a kid!"

"You think that will stop them?" Utakata turned his flute over in his hand, rubbing his fingers up and down its smooth sides.

I covered my eyes with one hand, trying to shut out his gaze while I thought. _Naruto has been living alone most of his life. He has no one. He's only eleven or twelve. Itachi left the bodies of his own father and mother bleeding on their living room floor for his little brother to find. What chance does Naruto have against someone like that?_

"Kisame and Itachi are moving on Konoha in three days," Utakata said quietly. "I'm going now."

As I glanced up, he melted away, dissolving into shadow. Something gleamed in the grass where he had been standing. I bent down to see what it was, and saw that he had dropped his flute.

I picked it up. It felt real enough in my hands – a simple bamboo instrument, polished from long use. I rubbed my thumb over it thoughtfully, staring into the dusk.

The moon was rising, a thin crescent behind a wisp of cloud. Konoha lay somewhere to the west – how many miles? I had not been there for months. I thought back to my life in the village – the noises of the street, half-heard through an open window in the ninja academy; big paper lanterns glowing outside the doors in the evening; the smell of hot soup and the laughing voices from the ramen shop a few doors down.

I thought of Naruto sitting on his favorite stool by the counter, stuffing ramen into his mouth. His table manners were awful. _If I don't do something, I guess I'll be seeing his ghost around here in a few days. _I pictured myself lighting a joss for him and trying to explain why I'd let him die, and the thought was chilling. I didn't particularly like Naruto – it was hard to like such a noisy brat – but he would make a pitifully small ghost.

I thought about my own family – my father, my grandfather, my ancestors. I had always been proud to be from the Hayashi clan. _That's what we've always done, isn't it? Protected our home, our village, our own people? At least I'll be able to tell them that I died with honor._

I tucked the flute into my sash, carefully smoothing down the folds of fabric around it. The woods behind me seemed flat and immeasurably far, like something painted on a screen. Nothing felt quite real any more – not even the earth I walked on felt solid beneath my feet. I looked across the clearing at the rising stars, and slowly and deliberately closed the door on my future and my past.

I felt divorced from life, as though I had now become a ghost myself. Kisame and his sword no longer seemed quite so terrifying. I drew in one last deep breath of the cool night air and walked slowing back toward the base.

_I will do what I must._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The next three days floated by me, dreamlike. I found myself listening intently to the movements of the Akatsuki, keenly aware of footsteps – Kakuzu's heavy tramp, Deidara's brisk light step, the strange clicking noise Sasori made. At night I lay awake, reviewing all the battle techniques I had been taught.

On the third morning I was up before daylight. I went outside, but the foggy air hung heavily, and mist droplets prickled my nose. I hoped I wouldn't have to fight outdoors in weather like this.

To hold off suspicion until the very last minute, I went back into the kitchen and set breakfast on the table. After everyone else had finished and left the room, I took off my kimono, folded it neatly, and draped it over a chair. The pants and shirt I wore underneath fit me closely and would be less likely to hamper me in battle. I slipped out of the kitchen, not bothering to wash the dishes, and waited near the front door. There was a little alcove, like a closet that had never been finished, that gave me shelter enough to hide in and watch the door without being seen.

One by one, the teams left on the missions of the day. I counted them mentally as they went out. Deidara and Sasori, Hidan and Kakuzu, Zetsu, Konan...Leader was still somewhere in the hideout, but that couldn't be helped. The fewer members that were hanging around, the easier my task would be.

At last I heard Itachi and Kisame coming down the hall. My heart began to pound, hammering against the sides of my chest until I felt my ribs must burst. My throat felt thick, and my breath came hard and heavy. _Well, here goes. At least I know it will be quick._

I tensed, readying myself to fight as soon as they had their backs to me. But then I heard their footsteps stop, and Itachi swore under his breath. "Ah, I forgot something. I'll be right back."

He retreated up the hall, and I felt my stomach unclench. I tiptoed out of my hiding place and saw Kisame lounging by the door, one hand leaning on the doorframe. His other hand supported Samehada – but loosely. _Maybe I've got a fighting chance after all. _

With a swift kick I knocked Samehada down. The sword spun toward me, and I stood on it. Kisame whirled, and surprise flickered across his face.

"Takeko, what the hell? What do you think you're doing?"

I didn't have time to answer. My mind was clamoring. I made the hand seals and felt the old, electric thrill race through my body as the jutsu began to work. My chakra shield rose around me, warm against my skin, and glowing tendrils shot from my fingertips and curled around Kisame's wrists.

"Look, what is going on here?" Kisame demanded. "Knock it off. I'd hate to have to break your neck – you're a good cook."

By now I could feel his chakra flowing into me. My cheeks were burning hot, and a grin spread across my face. I loved the sensation of drinking an opponent's chakra. It was harmony, a fierce light feeling that made my feet think they could rise and fly. I gave him a cocky smile.

"I'm a Leaf Village chuunin, Kisame. That's all it takes."

Kisame reached for my throat, but his hands slipped on the chakra shield. His gray face grew grayer and more livid. He slumped back against the door, breathing heavily.

My bloodline limit took only a few minutes to do its work. Kisame's legs buckled, and he sagged against the door frame. I wanted to laugh out loud, but through the euphoria a little voice sounded in my head: _Itachi will be here any second now, _it hissed, _and when he comes back you're dead._

I stepped closer to Kisame, concentrating on the flow of chakra from his body. _I'll finish you off if it's the last thing I do. _Behind me I heard footsteps on the floor, and knew that Itachi was coming. The hot excitement running through my veins pushed me beyond fear. I glanced over my shoulder at him and laughed.

A kunai spun off my chakra shield and rang as it hit the floor beside me. I thought that would give him pause, but Itachi was fast and brilliant. Without hesitation his arm flashed up and struck me heavily across the back.

By now Kisame was almost drained, and my chakra shield was thinning fast. Itachi's blow hit home. Enormous pain bloomed suddenly in my lower back and sent red-hot tendrils shooting up my spine. My legs buckled, and I collapsed on top of Samehada.

Agony filled my brain. I clamped my teeth down hard on my lower lip to keep in the scream rising inside me. My face was clammy with sweat, and strands of hair stuck to my forehead.

Itachi jerked the sword from beneath me and tossed it into the corner. He stepped over my body and reached for Kisame. Dimly I watched him drape Kisame's arm across his neck and half drag, half carry his partner down the hall.

When the fire in my brain subsided a little, I tried to move my legs. I could not make them obey me. After struggling for what felt like an eternity, I managed to roll over and raise myself on both arms. Slowly, I pulled myself toward the door.

I made it outside the base and over the doorstep before my arms sagged underneath my own weight. I lay facedown on the ground, panting. My stomach heaved, and I thought for a moment I was going to be sick. I knew that once Itachi had done what he could for Kisame, he would come back and kill me, and I wished he would be quick about it. At least it would make the pain go away.

Then – a cool touch on my lower back. It felt as though icy fingers were reaching into me, probing and exploring gently. Cold flowed through my bones like water, soothing, replenishing, healing. The fire died.

I moved my head a little and breathed a deep sigh. I was wrung out and trembling with exhaustion, but my head was clear. The pain in my back was gone.

"Here, try to sit up." The sharp whisper seemed somehow familiar. I braced my hands on the earth and slowly pushed myself upright.

Nii Yugito looked down at me. The morning mist partly hid her, making it seem that she was fading into a cloud.

"Yugito?" I whispered.

"Don't waste your time. You've got to get out of here." She gave me a sardonic grin. "I did a lot better than you when I fought Akatsuki."

"Did you touch me?"

"Yes, I just readjusted your chakra a little. I guess it comes with being a ghost. No, no questions—you haven't got time. Get up and get going."

"Then he didn't break my back." I gripped the doorframe and pulled myself upright. My feet and legs belonged to me again, and I bent gingerly at the waist to see if I could feel any bones grating on each other. Nothing, just a little stiffness. _I've got to be dreaming. _

Yugito gave me what would have been a rough shove if I could have felt her hand. "Move, will you! You want to stand around here and get killed?"

"I can't move very fast yet. I still feel pretty shaky."

"Well, get moving as fast as you can. The fog is heavy enough to hide you if you don't dawdle."

"Do you know the easiest way to get to Konoha from here, Yugito?"

"Yes, but –"

"Then take me there."

"Are you sure? You know that's the first place they'll look for you—" Yugito began, and then stopped. "All right. I'll take you there. And, by the way, Takeko? Thanks. At least you tried. A lot of people wouldn't have."

As I limped along the trail to Konoha, I mentally replayed the fight I'd just been through. _The ending was pretty pathetic, _I admitted to myself, _but I did stand up to Kisame. I never thought I could do that. I guess I'm not a washout after all. _ The thought squared my shoulders and firmed my spine. "Yes," I whispered, and all of a sudden I felt like laughing out loud.

_I did it. I fought. I'm still a chuunin. _I wished I could leap through the woods like I used to, covering the ground in great strides, but for now I was happy just to feel the firm earth under my feet. The air was chilly and still heavy with mist. The damp green smell of the forest sat pleasantly in my nose.

I was still alive, and I was going home.


End file.
